The Canon Keepers
by JealousOfTheMoon
Summary: An inside look at the greatest enemy the MarySue industry has ever known: The Canon Keepers! For all SueWannabes, this will open your eyes as to what all MarySues are up against and cause you to question your choice in careers. NOW DESCRIPTIFIED.


Original Note: _I was bored and feeling rather vengeful towards Mary Sues. I am not a great fan of Mary Sue fanfiction work (or any Mary Sue writing) unless I happen to be in the mood for humorous entertainment. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule. However, I decided to spoof them with a slight twist. I hope it is enjoyable. Be ye forewarned, I have not looked at this dratted document for quite some weeks, and it may be very bad. If so, I have no lawyer and no money, so suing me is out of the question. (Haha. Suing…Mary Sue spoof…haha.) If I really offend you, maybe I'll beta-read your Sue-spoof. But I won't promise to be nice._

New Note: _I've been intending to descriptify these ever since my conscience smote me and I've ceased to be able to convince myself that these aren't _really_ scriptfics and there are so many stories out there that are mostly dialogue and should be banned that are _much worse_...well, that's not a sentiment towards rule-breaking that I would usually condone and so I'm trying to rectify this. Thus I give you the first Canon Keepers, descriptified! I shall be working through the others eventually... _Slashfic Bashfic_ actually got in a bit of trouble and was removed, but I was in the process of changing it when it was so I've got it saved... I'm a bit miffed that it happened as I was about to change it, but what can you do? I'll be re-adding it soon. _

**The Canon Keepers **

"Hello," the girl wearing a tag saying "OC" greeted the young woman behind the desk. Over the woman's desk hung a sign: _Narnia Canon—Apply Below_, and a small sign on the desk read "The Keeper is IN."

The young woman—who was, indeed, a Keeper—took one look at the pink-clad buxom young blonde with sparkling blue eyes. She suspiciously resembled about a thousand different movie actresses—only she was more toned and fit and beautiful, of course.

The Keeper moved her eyes languidly back to the desk surface in front of her. "Get out of my sight," she said shortly.

"Well," the OC said huffily. "There's no need to be so loquacious!"

The Keeper's eyebrows expanded at the use of the last word. "Do you not know the meaning of _loquacious_, or is that a truly and intelligently sarcastic remark I hear coming from you?"

(For the record, it was the former.)

"Umm…" it took the OC a few minutes to process this. "Are you insulted? 'Cause I didn't think—" But our illustrious Keeper cut her off with a well-practiced 'ahem.'

"Let's take this one step at a time." She held up her forefinger. "First, in response to your remark _'umm_.' Congratulations on finally displaying your intelligence with aptness." A second finger went up. "Secondly, yes, I'm insulted. Your lack of two brain cells to rub together would insult anyone with a fully functioning brain, therefore your very existence insults me. And as for the third snide remark, you're correct. You didn't think and probably never have in your entire life."

The OC gave a blank stare. Apparently there were some rather large words in there…words that her single brain cell was having trouble wrapping itself around. "Liek…" she gaped. "ok…"

The Keeper huffed a sigh. "I suppose there's no sense in beating around the bush. Let's get down to business, shall we? You're an OC."

The OC jumped back to life at this statement. "Yeah, liek, is it that easy to tell? I'm applying for the Narnia place…I mean, OMG, have you _seen_ William Moseley?"

"Oh, drat." The Keeper moaned. "So you're not at the C.S. Lewis Canon Entrance desk by mistake. Why can't I just get the BookCanon OCs? Why lump extreme idiots with not-so-extreme idiots?"

"I'm sorry?" The OC queried.

A singularly devious expression overcame the Keeper's face, and she muttered,_ "_Oh, you will be." Then she cleared her throat in a businesslike fashion, a determined-to-have-fun expression overcoming her face. "Er—that is, let me look you over." She gave the OC an assessing glance and leaned back with a yawn. "Yep, you would be a standard OC. Blonde hair, blue eyes—"

Clearly the OC had never encountered anyone who had looked at her and then _yawned_. She bristled at this. "'Scuse me, but my liek character subscription says I have _sparkling_ _sapphire_ eyes. I think you'll find that a little more, liek, _kewl_."

For a moment, the Keeper's cheery façade wavered. _'Subscription…gaaaahhh…'_ the thought ran through her head, and had she been a less stable individual she might have contemplated intellectual suicide—or homicide, at the east. Out loud she said, with reference to the OC's application, "I'm sorry, I'll make that _sparkling sapphire_ eyes, _shimmering swooshing_ hair, porcelain skin, swoonable body build—yep, you look like an average OC."

"Actually, I'm not average," the OC straightened proudly. "I mean, liek, my character subscription says I'm vastly above average, more beautiful than anyone else."

"Believe it or not, unsurpassable super-average beauty is "the norm" for OCs," the Keeper remarked dryly.

The OC released a pitifully idiotic noise and half-swooned.

"Of course, they're not all the blonde-haired blue-eyed twit—that is, characters," the Keeper went on, clearly enjoying herself. "In fact, many have fiery red hair—ironically, it's most commonly described as "unusual"—and brilliant green e yes. I'll file you as a "dumb blonde," while the others go into "dumb bronze.""

"You mean…there are others…_like me_?" The OC's voice was faint but distinctly moronish.

"Sadly, yes. Also, you should know that most girls like you don't even make it into Narnia; I turn a lot of people down." _There. Got the truth out. Now can you just leave?_

"Wait—You don't think I have a chance?" The OC shrieked. Apparently the possibility of rejection had never occurred to her.

Grimly, the Keeper looked up, locking her gaze with the OC. "Well, hun, there's no easy way to say this, so we'll just face it head on: you don't really meet our standards. Strike that. There's no way you'll ever meet our standards. I mean, look at the terms to which you must first agree and prove that you can maintain! For instance, your character description is thirty-six pages long. Even if I were to take out all the cliché descriptive terms and cut it down to one and a half pages, that's still too long."

"Surely that, liek, doesn't really matter—" The OC protested. The Keeper ignored her.

"Secondly, I noticed that your name is "Mary Sue." That puts you way down the list already. You'll also need to find an author willing to compose an OC romance fanfic who can at the same time use proper spelling and grammar. But the biggest problem you'll have is our Terms of Agreement. You have to read all 247 of them, agree to them, and maintain them throughout the story. Take a look at some of these. Here's a rule you'll find difficult—**I will not use shimmer-glimmer shampoo to produce that "shimmers in the moonlight" effect.**—yes, I know, you're simply devastated. Check out this one. **I will not corner a Narnian king or subject in the moonlight and turn an innocent meeting into a corny romantic situation. **Or this: **I will not at any time sport fake eyelashes, nor bat them. **Take Rule 47 for example: **I will not wear dresses that merit more than a sentence's description (25 words max). **You'll find this one very hard to maintain: **I will not spend time gazing into King Peter's allegedly "aquamarine" eyes, nor label them as pools of immeasurable blue depth. **–Ouch, that just about killed your chances.— **I will not at any time find any Narnian character strong and sensitive, **_especially_** not King Peter.** **–**There go your hopes and dreams.— **I will not at any time place myself in a situation meriting a rescue from a character I find handsome, much less consider any character handsome—"** She stopped reading and looked at the 'Sue, whose face had gone a very violent shade of magenta.

"Wait, wait, I mean, liek, WAIT." She screeched, waving a hideously manicured hand in the Keeper's face. "Those are all _part_ of my OC being—I was _born_ to look into the handsom face of the High King, to gaze into the immeasurable depths of aquamarine blue called his eyes, to wear wonderful gowns with intricate embroidery, to love my strong and sensitive king, to kiss him passionately—" She rambled on tediously.

Unfazed, the Keeper picked up a nearby phone and punched a button. "Security? We have a Code Red case up on floor 56, in the C.S. Lewis Canon Department. What? No, by the Lion, she is _not_ to enter Narnia. Aslan would make a clean job out of her—he does it far too quickly with not enough pain inflicted. Take her up to Arwen at Tolkein Canon. Just to make sure she gets the proper treatment, search File SUE806C and you'll find enough incriminating evidence against her; namely, her journals from the years _Lord of the Rings_ came out in film. There's plenty of dreaming over "Viggo" and putting herself in OC positions with Aragorn to get her a pretty painful sentence." She hung up the phone and turned back to the still-babbling OC. "Now, Miss Sue—"

"…to walk under the stars and Narnian moon and hear him compliment my shimmering hair and doe-like eyes," the OC seemed not to hear her, "…to wear my beautiful crown set with jewels that match my sapphire eyes…

"That sounds fine, Miss," the Keeper went into Placate Mode. "Oh, here's Security. You," she stood up and grabbed the 'Sue by the shoulders, "go to HIM." She shoved the 'Sue towards the guard.

" …to ride in front of him on his unicorn and feel his strong arms—oh, hi," she noticed the guard and stared at him with a glazed expression,"you have nice eyes but not as nice as Peters—" she continued—"to feel his strong arms around my slender, delicate waist, to be captured by an evil villain and rescued by my beautiful king…

The security guard's face was an expression of awe-tinged disgust and revulsion. "Wow, misplacing a possessive with a plural. I'd call this Third Degree Suedom."

"Yeah, and she's really into _movie canon_, no less." The Keeper added. The security guard let out an appalled shudder.

The 'Sue was taking no notice of either of them. "…to hear his professions of undying love, to rule as QUEEN OF NARNIA FOREVER!..."

" Sad…" the guard commented, shaking his head. "Oh, I e-mailed those files up to Arwen. I think she's about to blow her top—we'd better get this thing _motions to OC _up to her fast before she has time to cool down. I'm surprised, though; for someone this far gone, isn't Arwen kind of mild for you? You should have sent her to Eowyn—by the way, did you hear her latest exploit?" the Keeper shook her head and the guard went on. "Apparently she caught an OC who wanted to be paired with Eomer—a real Mary Sue, you understand—and Eowyn caught up in her righteous sisterly indignation send that Dumb Bronze (one of those "unusual" redheads) into a story paired with_" _he choked on laughter for a few minutes before continuing—"Gimli!"

The Keeper smirked. "What happened to her?"

" She quit before the story was finished."

"Hmm," the Keeper said thoughtfully. "Dumb Bronzes – some of them – have at least two brain cells, it would seem."

"Of course, Eowyn beat the one who was sighing over Faramir with the flat of her sword. She was about to pair her with Gollum when the lawyer of the 'Sue threatened to sue (no pun intended) and she let her go with a severe warning. I heard that same Mary Sue applied in the Star Wars department…got into a story only to be mauled by Chewbacca!"

"Ouch," the Keeper commented absentmindedly. She really needed a coffee and the gossiping guard was trying her patience. "Well, you'd best get her off to the Tolkein Dept. If she offers any trouble there, tell Arwen to ship her to Lucas Desk – that'll finish her if nothing else does."

"Alright," the guard said reluctantly. "Come along, OC!"

"…to feel his strong, muscular—huh?" the OC blinked. A pair of handcuffs had magically appeared around her wrist—or so she thought. Was this some sort of strange initiation process? "Am I in?" She asked warily.

"Oh, you're in all right!" The Keeper said cheerily, waving as the OC skipped happily away with the security guard. "that is, you're in_ for it_! That nasty, horrid, idiotic, stupid, lame-brained girl ended her sentence with a preposition. Oh, what a tiring day. I feel the need for an Espresso_._" She picked up the phone again. "Front desk? This is Lucy up on the Lewis Canon floor. I'm going home. If anyone comes in to apply for the Lewis Canon, send them up to Eowyn in Tolkein or Leia in Lucas and have them make a decision for me. What? Eowyn's at a woodland resort and Leia's on vacation in a galaxy far far away? Why doesn't anyone tell me these things! Well, then, send them to Abigail down at Treasury until Susan comes in to take my place. Can't wait 'till it's the Gary Stu season when Pete and Ed get to handle this torture."

She hung up the phone, and without further ado, picked up her purse, got on the elevator, and went straight home to her flat—if you consider a four block detour to the nearest coffee shop "on the way," that is.


End file.
